


The undying lands

by pistachiomadeleines



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8611243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistachiomadeleines/pseuds/pistachiomadeleines
Summary: Harry watches The Lord of the Rings with Tom Riddle's ghost because they have all the time in the world.





	

In the Room of Requirement, Harry watches _The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King_ with Tom Riddle's ghost.

"How many more minutes of this are there?" Tom demands twenty minutes into the movie.

"Three hours," says Harry, and when Tom opens his mouth to object, Harry unkindly points out that Tom doesn't have anything better to do anyway; he's a ghost. If he's so easily bored, Harry says, he should have chosen oblivion over infinite time on earth.

Tom sulks, upset that Harry has, once again, poked fun at his crippling phobia of non-existence. He dreams of the day Harry, his friends, and anyone who knows about the connection between Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort will die. That day he will emerge from hiding, no longer resigned to watching tedious muggle movies in the company of Harry Potter, and do whatever he likes with his infinite time on earth.

The movie switches to a scene of Sauron, whose eye (or is Sauron the eye? Tom isn't sure but is too proud to ask Harry to explain) blazes like fire over Mount Doom. This instantly cheers Tom up. He sees himself in Sauron. Putting a part of one's soul into a ring in order to make oneself immortal sounds exactly like something Tom would do. "The Ring is a Horcrux," Tom points out to Harry, who rolls his eyes. "He should have played it safe and made six more."

Now Frodo and Sam are struggling up Mount Doom. Frodo, whom Tom has called a wuss on many occasions, falls onto his side, leaving Sam to heave him onto his shoulders and carry him the rest of the way. Tom throws his head back and laughs heartily at this display of weakness.

"If you don't shut up," Harry says through gritted teeth, "I'm going to beg Hermione to dedicate the next few years to inventing exorcism."

This shuts Tom up, because he's already figured out how exorcisms would work and knows the Granger girl, who isn't as stupid as the rest, probably could too if given enough time and motivation. When the eagles make an appearance, swooping in and saving Sam and Frodo from the erupting volcano, he refrains from exclaiming in disbelief.

Thankfully, Harry reacts on their behalf. "What the fuck!" he yells.

"An extremely heavy-handed use of _deus ex machina_ ," Tom agrees.

The volcano erupts, the Hobbits hug, and everyone's happy. Or not quite; there's a sad bit at the end where Frodo has to get on a boat and sail away to the Undying Lands because the poison from the Nazgul's blade, or whatever was keeping him from manning up the whole time, is killing him. Tom realizes Frodo will never fully return to the home whose memory kept him alive in Mordor; he's lost too much of himself in the process of saving everyone else. Tom is surprised to find a lump in his throat. _At least Dumbledore's dying too, that obnoxious git_ , he thinks, trying to console himself. _I mean Gandalf. Gandalf!_

He looks across the couch to see if Harry is crying. From experience he knows Harry is a sop who tends to cry silently at the sad parts of movies. But Harry is asleep. His head is resting on the couch arm, his feet are tucked behind his knees, and he's snoring gently. Tom is surprised but pleased; Harry has had trouble sleeping since the war.

Carefully, lifting his icy fingers so that they don't come into contact with Harry's warm skin, Tom drapes a blanket that the room has graciously provided over Harry's sleeping form. Then he glides over to the window to draw the curtains before the light grows too strong. It's early in the morning and the sun is coming up over the lake. Tom can't feel its warmth against his face, hasn't been able to for years, but he can appreciate the rose gold in the water, the V of geese in the sky. It's beautiful. He thinks of Frodo and his companions on their final journey across the ocean. Maybe it's just the light that's making him uncommonly tender and sentimental, but he hopes, he sincerely hopes, that the Undying Lands are everything they dreamed of.


End file.
